Suffer No More
by K M Rose
Summary: Draco broods over a problem that is a direct result of a poor decision, a problem that is dangerous for someone he holds dear, Hermione. Rating: T for language. Ch 6 edited!
1. Getting Her Back

**-A/N- **I thought of this one day when I was feeling particularly bitter…so…yeah. It might not be perfectly synced altogether correctly. I apologize.

**-----the story-----**

The storm is approaching the shore quickly, but I don't care.

The lightning is making the air alive with electricity, pricking my skin, but I didn't care.

The rain and sleet hit my face like cold pieces of glass, possibly making me bleed, but I don't care.

The physical pain I am feeling is nothing compared to the emotional pain I felt when I saw what had become of her; when I saw what he had done to her.

She was supposed to go on and do great things; write beautiful books; teach eager children; lead wonderful revolutions! She was supposed to better the world, but what is she doing? What has she been forced to become?

A housewife. A bloody fucking homemaker.

He has ruined her chances of happiness, I know he has. I see it written all over her face.

She didn't want that. She didn't want to be the wife of a sadistic, overbearing, pig-headed, occasionally drunk, lummox. What did she want?

She wanted a man who shared her interests, a man who she could hold real conversations with. Someone who could and has suffered with her. Hell, Potter would have been a better match then the scum she saddled up with, but then of course he was too busy with the lummox's sister, wasn't he?

She doesn't have what she wants, and now she's paying for it, and so am I.

I was so stupid; I shouldn't have pushed her into his arms like that.

She told me she loved me, and I really and truly loved her back, but I panicked. I shouldn't have gone to their wedding, I take that back…what I meant to say was I should have done something, made her understand that what she was choosing was wrong!

I should have told her that she'd never be happy with the Weasel, instead of wishing her all the happiness that he could give her.

I should have asked her to marry me at their altar, and I think she secretly wished me to as well, but I didn't and we're suffering for our mistakes.

She's stuck raising that damned bastard's family, and I'm stuck knowing how great our life could have been.

Of course she didn't put up much of a fight when I turned her away. She willingly went to him, I guess it was out of habit, or convenience. I suppose, he was the nearest, and most available gent around…no, not gent. Faggot. Bastard. Cock-sucking twat. He certainly wasn't a 'gent.' When six out of seven nights the man comes home drunk and might quite possibly beat his wife (she denies it, but I don't believe her, neither does anyone else) the man is not a gentleman by any stretch of the imagination.

But this self-pity doesn't help my situation any, I'm standing outside her flat, looking at her window.

I'm going to help her out.

Figuring that she'd appreciate the Muggle way of courting better, I picked up a small rock and threw it. It hit the brick, not the window. Damn. Again, I threw another small rock this time it hit her window. I threw a third rock, it also hit the window.

I watched as she drew back the curtains, and opened the window carefully. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"You." I answer. I've wanted her for the longest time, and I was going to tell her that.

"What?!"

"I want you."

"Are you drunk? Malfoy, go home, it is three o'clock in the morning. And I don't want to wake up Ron."

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I want to make things right." I spoke louder, I wanted to wake the bastard up. I'd hex him for everything he'd done to her, the physical and emotional harm, even the harm that Hermione couldn't feel. The harm that I could see. He was going to get it.

"Draco! Shhh! Please don't do this, not here. Not now…not ever. You made your decision a long time ago, ok? You had your chance and you blew it. What?" She turned to someone in the room with her. The Weasel no doubt. "It's no one, just a cat dear. I'm closing the window right now."

As she started to close the window, I couldn't stand it any longer, I began yelling. "DON'T you dare close that window on me. You owe me the decency to at least listen to what I have to say."

I could see the bastard's red head make its way to the window, Hermione's gaze immediately snapped towards the floor. Ron's face was visible now, "She doesn't owe you a damn thing, you greasy ass Ferret!"

"Is that so, Weasley? Why won't you let her speak for herself? Hermione? Is that what you think?" He was treating her the way my father treated my mother….controlling.

"What she thinks doesn't matter! She's my wife, so leave her alone!" Ron was getting angry, I could tell and I was glad for it. I eyed him, daring him to so much as to reach for a wand.

"Why don't you leave her alone, Weasley! We can all see what you're doing! She might cover up the bruises, and she might take a potion to not feel the pain, but no amount of potions or magic can hide what you're doing to her! You control everything she does like a master to a slave! Can she even pass water without your permission, Weasley?" That's it, get mad, get your wand and come out here and face me.

"Sod off, Malfoy!" Ron started to close the window more quickly than Hermione had.

"I will not 'Sod off.' I will stand down here 'til either you or Hermione walks down those stairs." I said indicating the front steps into their building with my hand.

"Fine!" I heard Hermione mumble something and Ron's answer was a very unloving, "Shut up, and don't move."

"Stand up for yourself, Hermione! Don't take it anymore!" I yelled up to her hoping that she'd take my advice. "It's the only way to end it!"

I heard a 'Shut up, Malfoy.' from somewhere in the depths of that room, but I also heard, "He's right."

"…What?"

"Ron, I can't do this anymore."

"Hermione, you're _my_ wife. You'll do as I say."

"NO, Ron! I won't! I am my own woman, and I will do as I please! Move away from the door."

"…"

"Ron, move away from that door, or Merlin help me I will move you away from it for you."

"…"

"Ron, I said move…STUPEFY!"

Within seconds I saw her running from the building with nothing but the nightgown she had on. "Children?"

"They're with Molly." She ran into my arms and wouldn't let me go for a while. She stood there clinging to me for what I assume was her life.

"Hermione, we need to go get your children, and then we'll talk about us alright?" She merely nodded, but I knew that in that nod was a world full of "Yes's", and "Sod off's", and "I love you's." I hugged her tight, and Apparated to the rickety home where my soon-to-be children were, and where I would rectify the terrible wrong I had helped create.


	2. Taking Her Home

**A/N --** Upon request this fic will now feature chapters!! Jill and Melissa, I love you both so very dearly. I appreciate your support and underwire. I'm sorry. Did I just compare my best friends to a bra?! I am dreadfully sorry! I really do love you, thanks for helping me out!

I wasn't feeling as particularly bitter whilst writing this chapter, but I really just don't like Ron!

**-------the story-------**

It was the most awkward feeling in the world, being led up the path, to the front door of the tumbledown structure the Weasleys called 'home.' I think I might've only felt _more_ awkward was when Molly and Arthur gave Hermione warm hugs and smiles, and hardly even bothered to give me a cold glare. 'Great.' I thought. 'They used to welcome me into their home, but ever since I broke her heart...they resent me. Just fucking _great_.'

I followed everyone into the kitchen. Hermione went up stairs to check-in on her and the Weasel's brood of kids. Molly started loudly fixing tea (she must really not want me to be there,) while Arthur busied himself with the Prophet. With out saying a word Molly set two cups of tea on the table, then went up stairs to take a cup to Hermione.

After about ten minutes of silence, I cleared my throat, "Look, are you punishing me for what I did six years ago, or is this something different?" Arthur carefully folded the paper and looked at me over his reading spectacles. "Ron owled earlier this evening. He that you and Hermione had become stark raving mad, and that we were not to let either of you anywhere near the children. Also, said that Molly and I were supposed to keep you here until he got done at St. Mungo's, and was able to deal with _'this situation'_ properly. Tell me, Draco, what exactly is '_this_ situation'?"

As I recounted the nights events, I explained to Arthur that I was tired and utterly fed-up, watching his son DESTROY his daughter-in-law: mentally, emotionally, and physically. "You did notice what he was doing to her , didn't you?"

"Of course we noticed! Do you think we're blind?"

"Then _why_ didn't you do anything about it?"

"The tell me. What could we have done? What could we have done, Draco? Ron isn't exactly the world's best listener, besides...Harry tried to help, but...well, we know where that got him don't we? Merlin rest his soul. Ginny hasn't spoken to Ron since, as you can imagine."

I could imagine, seeing as how Ron inadvertently killed the Boy-Who-Lived (twice over) It seems, that the Potters and the Weasleys were having a lovely dinner. Ron had most likely been drinking, and something wasn't right with the meal, or Hermione made some snide comment about his drinking, and...well, Harry stepped in between Ron's hand and Hermione's face. What resulted was a badly mangled Potter laid up at St. Mungo's, and angered beyond belief Weaselette, a crying Hermione, and a passed out twat. To everyone's surprise, grief, and dismay, Harry Potter passed away four years ago. Apparently, the accumulation of curses, spells, and hexes that Harry was unable to block (due to the fact he was probably _talking_ to Ron and not paying attention) caused his immune system to shut down, leaving him to the flu and other viruses. Though I am just as grief stricken about it as the next guy, I am a relatively selfish bastard, and I was only too happy that Weasley still had a wife for me to steal back from him.

"Draco, we need to go." Aforementioned wife was standing in the doorway with a little girl on her hip (who looked a bit too big to be carried) and three boys hiding behind her legs. I stood up and shook Arthur's hand promising we'd keep in touch, I turned to give Molly a small reassuring smile, but she looked at me with what I suppose was her version of disdain (an expression I had seen my mother wear several times.) She must still hate me a bit, but that was neither here nor there, at the moment.

Hermione handed me the little girl, while she picked up the youngest of the boys, and instructed the other two (twins it looked like) to hold our hands very tightly, because "...side-along-apparation with underage wizards is very dangerous and should be performed very carefully."

I smiled as I apparated us all to my home. Even after all these years, she still was the same know-it-all who could quote rules and regulations, maybe even entire books, verbatim, at the drop of a hat.

--

--

Once inside the Manor's largest sitting room, the little girl squirmed out of my arms and to the floor, where she made a beeline for the bookshelf next to the fireplace. "Does, your clone have a name?"

I suppose Hermione chuckled at my mention of newfangled muggle science, but it could have been something else all together. "Yes, her name is Rose. And at five years old, she has my love of reading! She read my old school copy of Hogwarts: A History, when she was three! And I bet she knows more about it than I do! These two," she said indicating the twins, "are Nicolas and Nathaniel, little Nick and Nate. They are only six years old, but they behave just as badly as their Fred and George did at school." We both took a moment to honor Fred Weasley. Not that I really knew him much, he meant a lot to that family and Hermione, so transitively he meant a lot to me. Continuing, she motioned to the boy she had just sat down beside, "This is my Hugo. Isn't he just precious? Eighteen months old, and already he is quite the artist. Just the other day.."

She seemed so happy talking about her children, and their accomplishments. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. Occasionally she would laugh about a joke the twins had told her last month, and Rose would interrupt her to ask questions about the book she had pulled off the shelf, while Hugo sat in his mother's lap laughing along with her.

For the first time, in a long time, I could honestly say...that I was happy.

--

--

**Meanwhile back at the Burrow...**

"You let them go where?!"

"With their mother." Molly sipped her tea. She might have to love her son, but Merlin knows she didn't have to like him.

"Why didn't you keep them here! I asked you not to let her take them!" Ron slammed his glass down onto the table.

"Ronald! Don't go denting the table! It's your Great-great-great-great-aunt Quinctia Atia Corneila's! It was the first thing she bought with her own money here in England, so be careful!" Molly, wiped up the water that had spilled everywhere, and sighed at the noticeable dent.

"My children have been taking by a lunatic and my crazy wife, and you are worried about antiques? You have really lost some your mothering skills. Did Hermione say where she was going?" His anger was starting to creep up...he knew exactly where she was.

"No Ronald, all she said was that she was staying at a friend's house."

"Yeah, I know who this 'friend' is, and he doesn't fucking love her. That wanker probably just wants to fuck her so that he can impress his ex-death eater groupies by saying that he had Hermione Granger! Then!! He'll sell my kids off in Knockturn alley for shitty-ass brick-a-brack! That bitch ran off with him and my kids! Fucking bat-shit crazy cunt!"

!Slap!

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY! You will watch your tongue in this house! I did not raise you to act this way! I don't even allow your sister to say such things about you, and Merlin knows she needs to. You killed her husband after all!"

"I DIDN'T KILL HARRY! It was a flu. He died from the flu! I had nothing to do with it. He was my best mate, and that."

Molly looked at her son, then walked over to the family clock. He took the hand with his name on it off, and handed it to him. "I don't want you back in this house until you can behave like a regular human being and take responsibilities for your actions." Wiping her hands on her apron, she walked out of the kitchen and upstairs.

--

--

Arthur concluded his letter with this, "If she's serious about divorcing Ronald, she'll need to go to the ministry first thing in the morning. P.S. Ron is looking for her. Draco, keep her safe and happy."

And I intend to do just that...keep her.

--

--

End Ch. 2

A/N – Well? Yes? No? Maybe? Please let me know what you think of it in a review! Any and everything! If you hate it let me know, if you like it let me know! I needz ur wurds!

itou


	3. Running Sundry Errands

**A/N –** Well, I saw that this fic got added to story alert lists, so, I guess that I should continue. Thank you for your support and curiosity readers!

Many thanks to Jill and Melissa. To you both: Three person Apples-to-Apples is fun in so many ways! I love you with all my heart.

I started writing this chapter in my mother's seventh grade social studies classroom, while her students were blathering and yelling and carrying on with the general loudness that comes along with being a middle school student learning about the wonders of Pre-Renaissance Europe.

**-----the story-----**

4:20 am.

I haven't slept yet, and I don't think I'll be able to. I've been thinking about how in a few weeks, I'll be able to rectify the problem I caused. 'Everything will be as it should have been.'

I didn't expect Hermione to sleep with me last night, and I wasn't surprised when she didn't. I was more than happy to have the house elves fix up a room for her and Hugo (I had freed the elves after the war, but for some reason or another they had all stayed. Rose decided that she would sleep in the sitting room, with the books.

"_You can take the books with you to bed, you know?"_

"_But then I would have to decide what I wanted to read now! And there are too many!"_

She had made an excellent argument, that both Hermione and I understood, so neither of us made a fuss about it.

The twins had wandered away earlier in the evening, when Hermione and I looked for them, we found them in my old bedroom, already asleep.

"_Thank you for letting us stay here Draco." Said Hermione, as she pulled the blanket up on the boys' shoulders._

_I put my arm around her, "It's the least I could do…considering."_

"_Of course. But, this is wonderful."_

"_Are you going to leave him, for good?" The words were out of my mouth before I had adequate enough time to actually think about them. I looked at her face, and watched as the thoughts moved across it. She seemed to wrestle with an answer; I waited a few moments and hugged her tight. _

_Opening my mouth say, "I understand." She answered "Yes. I want to divorce him."_

"_Excellent." I said, "Then, we will go to the Ministry, first thing, in the morning. Sound good?"_

"_Sounds great." She flashed me a smile, and we lingered for a moment before both heading to separate beds._

Which brings us to now: me, lying in bed, debating on whether to get up and possibly make breakfast, or try for the fortieth time to go to sleep.

I closed my eyes, and squeezed them tight trying to will myself to sleep. I stayed that way for about five minutes, when I felt something tugging at the sheets and then something moving across the bed. Opening one eye I saw an out of focus pair of dark brown ones staring back at me. Opening my other eye, I noticed that they belonged to Hugo. He was just sitting there. Staring. "Good morning, Hugo. You're up a bit early aren't you?"

"…" He offered a small shrug.

"Is your mother up?"

"…" Again he shrugged.

"Well, then...let us go see!" As I picked the small boy up I wondered if he had said anything since their arrival at the Manor. Babies usually start making noises and talking at about eight months, right? I think I read that somewhere. Didn't Hermione say that Hugo was eighteen months old? I headed down the corridor to the room he and his mother had slept in, still wondering.

I was about to push the door open when is was yanked open by an extremely frizzy-headed Hermione, whose wide eyes immediately flicked to Hugo. She took him and about to cry as she said, "Hugo, my baby? Where were you? I woke up just now and you were gone! I was worried that the house might've eaten you! Or that your father had stolen you away in the night!" I refrained from pointing out that Malfoy Manor does not 'eat' people, and that the wards surrounding it would most definitely keep out Ron Weasley. Instead, I wanted to ask about Hugo, "Out of curiosity, what was Hugo's first word?" As I feared, Hermione became quite still.

"He didn't have one...he's mute" she said quietly. "The doctors couldn't do anything for the fever he had right after birth, they also told me that there is a great possibility that he might be a squib, but we won't be able to tell until he's Rose's age, or so." Hermione sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall, and in an attempt to change the subject she asked what time it was.

I looked down at my watch.

4:50 am

"It's too early to be worried about husband trespassing into baby eating houses." I reassuringly hugged her and told her to get a few more hours of sleep before we head out to the Ministry to get started on her divorce, which I reckoned shouldn't take more than...

--

--

"TWO AND A HALF MONTHS?!?!" Hermione was furious. I was too to be honest. I assumed about two weeks to be normal maybe a month, the Ministry does everything else that quickly.

"Yes Mrs. Weasley. Divorce is a very delicate process, you see." According to the name on the door the man was "Mr D. C. Sarisson—Head of Magical Marriges, Annulments, and Other Sundry Errands." He was a rather sort and squate older gentleman, who seemed to cover up the fact that he was balding with an off-colored toupee that was much to large for his head.

"A delicate matter?" Hermione sat with her arms folded. She wasn't going to put up with this man's shit, if indeed that's what it was. I wasn't so sure he was joking.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. A delicate matter. You see, first you and your husband must fill out this paper work." He produced a stack of parchments about a foot high. "Then once you have returned that, it must be sent off to the Processing Department, where a team of skilled professionals will go over each document and validate the...well...validity of each statement. That takes about two to three weeks depending on how honest you were." Mr. Sarisson began writing on a small calendar, indicating where the major events were with huge circles. "Then! Copies of the paperwork must be made and sent to each member of the Magical Divorce Council. This also takes about two weeks. Once that has been completed you and Mr. Weasley will be summoned to appear before the Council to present your arguments. Friends and family will also be summoned to giver their sides of the story. And depending on how complex and confusing the situation is, the Council may have a decision within another two weeks or so. But! Even if the Council does make a decision, it must be approved by the Minister of Magic, and well....you know how that goes. So assuming that you and your husband are both totally honest, that everyone in the Processing Department is healthy, that no one on the Council drops dead at any given moment, and that the Minister gets back from his holiday on time, I reckon you'll be divorced by...July 22 at the earliest!"

He handed the small calendar with his calculations on it to me, as well as the foot high load of parchments. I feebly managed to get Hermione standing and walking towards the door, when I turned back around and asked, "What other sundry errands are you in charge of?"

"Why, Mr. Malfoy. I am in charge of getting a tin of meat for the cat."

"The Ministry has a cat?"

"Of course it does." He beamed at this, as though it were relevant and important.

"Huh. Imagine that." And I closed the door.

--

--

End Ch. 3

A/N—I'm not very pleased with this chapter, because not much happens. I apologize for this. I do encourage you to write me reviews. Please, please, please! Reviews are not only entertaining, they are also helpful to the writer!

itou


	4. Beginning to Get Even

**A/N **-- Hello Readers! This chapter was written in the wonderful Microsoft Windows accessory Notepad!! :) yay!

....but not quite. DX

A few weeks ago, my laptop's hard drive went mad and I had to send it in. Everything had to be wiped clean, so it was Factory!Fresh! when I picked it up from best buy this past week.

_Anyway!_

Ms willow gosermer: I think the last chapter has grown on me. I like it more and more the father I get away from it, I hope that's the way it is with this chapter as well.

**THE DISCLAIMER THAT I HAVE FAILED TO MENTION FOR THREE CHAPTERS!!! ** I do not nor will I ever own Harry Potter or any of the characters or situations therein. I merely use them to amuse myself and others.

**-----the story-----**

Ron knocked on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again.

Still no answer.

"Fucking Merlin." the red-head slid down the door frame into a slumped up position on the front porch of his sister's flat. Moments later he heard someone walking up the street. He looked up to see fire, behind familiar blue eyes.

"What do you want?"

He stood up to look directly in to the blue eyes. "Ginny, I need your help. I really need to get my wife and children away from that slimy, death-eater, git, and I was hoping you'd help me." Ron was praying that his sister's respect for her family, her love for Hermione, and love of his children would counter-act her utter hatred for himself.

"Why should I help you? Tell me why I _would_ help you? You killed Harry, Ron. So as I see it, we aren't even related anymore, alright? Merlin, Why am I even speaking to you right now? I must be off my rocker, goodbye." And Ginny shut the door, leaving Ron speechless, on her doorstep, in tears, and for the first time in his entire life...completely alone.

--

--

We were hardly out of the corridor and into the Atrium when Hermione whirled around to me and nearly shrieked, "JULY 22nd? IT'S THE FUCKING 10th OF MAY! I am going to make damn sure that this gets taken care of well before July 22nd." People were beginning to stare, I had to do something to control her rather loud hatred of her current marital situation. So I struggled with the documents, and reached out for her.

"Ronald Weasley had better not give me any shit. Merlin! The Ministry needs to get it's shit together! Two and a half months for a Wizarding divorce? That is simply INSANE!" She was nearly insane herself...I got a hold of her shoulder (succeeding in not dropping any of the parchments) and shook her rather roughly, "HERMIONE!"

It worked, "Huh? What?"

"For the love of Merlin's Beard! Shut up! People are staring." This wasn't exactly the best thing to say, but it did remind her who she was with, and where she was. Back, when we were 'an item,' I had tried to get her to act like a respectable high-society witch, but the harder I tried the more she stood up to me, so I had long ago abandoned my Malfoy pride. I hadn't, however, abandoned her sense of public decorum; I had to get her to calm down before she embarrassed herself further.

In an attempt to subdue her slight anger with me I said, "Shall I go to the Burrow and drop off the Weasel's half of these parchments and see about tearing the children away from Molly, while you go to the Manor and rest?" She nodded, albeit not very enthusiastically. It was still an answer in the affirmative. So off I went, apparating to the Burrow.

--

--

"Mum! Of course I shut the door in his face! I haven't forgiven him yet!" The Weaslette was standing across from her mother in the kitchen.

"Well, from the sound of it you were a bit harsh to him!" Molly shook her head, disappointed in how none of her children don't get along, except for maybe Bill and Charlie.

"From what I hear you kicked him out of the Burrow! How is that any different?"

"Ginevra, dear, you're right it's not...but that still gives you no right to be out and out _rude_ to your brother!"

I cleared my throat, hoping to avoid the row that I saw looming in the distance of this conversation, "Uhm, would one of you lovely ladies care to help me?"

Ginny seemed relieved to have someone give her something to do other than get admonished by her mother for doing the very thing she herself did to Ron. "I'll help."

"Thank you." She took the parchments from me and set them on the table.

"The top half is for Ron I think. Is there an owl I could borrow? I need to send a few quick notes..." Molly nodded and instructed Ginny to show me.

...

Once there, Ginny opened the door, scowled at the warm smell, and went back downstairs. I was glad to see that the Weasley's had three owls, I had to use two and there was one left in case of an emergency. Good. I quickly got out two scraps of parchment.

_Hermione,_

_I have dropped off the documents, but I am going to stay at the Burrow for a few more moments._

_I want to see if there is any way we could get your things from your flat. _

_We will all be home shortly._

_Always,  
Draco_

I hesitated after I wrote the word 'Always.' We weren't together anymore, but it was habit. Maybe she'll over look it.

I began penning the second note.

_Dear madam,_

_I have heard that you are having trouble finding work. I have a job for you, if you are interested._

_It's right up your alley if I remember my school days correctly. You will be paid of course for your services._

_Please send your response to me directly, and in short order._

_D. Malfoy_

Merlin, am I clever.

--

--

Ron had managed, somehow, to get his feet moving off of his sister's doorstep and out onto the side walk.

He was still teary-eyed, and his nose was running like someone had left the tap running in his brain, but he kept walking nonetheless. After a while he no longer knew quite where he was. He noticed he had some how gotten himself in to a part of Muggle-London he had never been in before; he became rather frightened rather quickly. He quickened his pace trying to find something, somewhere that would help him get back to the magical part of town. Luckily, the Knight Bus found him.

Hello and welcome to the Knight Bus, which provides transport to all the destinations you can think of. I am your conductor, Stan Shunpike, and we ll take you anywhere you want to go for a very reasonable price. Stan looked up from his little booklet of 'Knight Bus--Proper Decorum and Greetings.' "Hey! I know you! You're Ron Weasley aren't you?! Hey Ern'! It's Ron Weasley! Where you need to get to Mr. Weasley? Take you to your building? The Ministry? Leaky Cauldron, perhaps?"

"What? Yeah, Yeah, the Leaky Cauldron is fine. How much will I owe you?" Ron reached in his poket for a small sack of coins, but was stopped by Stan's pretests of "Nonononono! It's on us sir! You bein' a war hero an' all!" Stan looked around on the sidewalk at Ron's feet. "No luggage then?"

"No. No luggage. Just me, I'm afraid."

"Well, get on! Anything I can get you, Mr. Weasley? To make your trip more enjoyable?"

"Um, no thanks, Stan. I think I'll be alright." But he really wasn't.

Ron made his way to an armchair well away from the front of the bus. He really didn't want to be bothered at the moment.

"Oh, my, my, my. You are in a right state aren't you?" A blonde witch, who was sitting across the asile from him, clicked her tongue as she lowered the Prophet she had been 'reading.' She winked as she adjusted her jewel-encrusted cateye glasses, with a neatly, red-laquered, clawed hand. "It's really a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Weasley."

--

--

**End Ch. 4**

**A/N--** Thank you for reading! I am quite pleased with the ending of this chappie! Your reviews are welcomed with open arms! :P

itou


	5. Ah, Drama

**A/N--** HEY HEY HEY!! I has MS Office now!!! w00t!!!

To be honest I wrote the second and third chapters the old fashioned way....with pen and paper.... XP I was proud of my seemingly miniscule accomplishments.

I do apologize for grammar and spelling mistakes. I try to re-read as I go along, just to keep bad things like that from happening. Though, of course, some slip by me unnoticed...like little grammar ninjas.

_**Ms willow gosermer**_: That may be entirely possible! ;)

_**krissie92:**_ Yes Harry's death is a sad one, but the way I see it is that is how the book should've ended. I mean if Voldemort's destruction came from the destruction of the Horcruxes, then logically if Harry died then so would Voldemort due to Harry being an accidental Horcrux.

I do still count the Epilogue as cannon...I just don't like it......Sorry! I'm rambling. I shan't keep you from the story any longer!!!

**THE DISCLAIMER THAT I REMEMBERED!!! **I do not nor will I ever own Harry Potter or any of the characters or situations therein. I merely use them to amuse myself and others.

_**..:::.**_ I tried to make this all flow a bit better, dunno if I was successful or not. Please let me know! ;)

**-----the story-----**

_"Oh, my, my, my. You are in a right state aren't you?" A blonde witch, who was sitting across the aisle from him, clicked her tongue as she lowered the Prophet she had been 'reading.' She winked as she adjusted her jewel-encrusted cat-eye glasses, with a neatly, red-lacquered, clawed hand. "It's really a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Weasley."_

Ron's eyes nearly fell out of his head. There sat Rita Skeeter, notable gossip and liar, who ever-so-recently became the head writer of Witch Weekly's celebrity section. "I can't say I feel the same Ms. Skeeter." Ron grimaced, he knew that this wasn't going to end well, so he braced himself for it from the get go.

"So...Ronald. How have you been these past few days?"

"I've, uh, been fine. I suppose."

"Is that so?" Rita reached into her crocodile bag, as she did this Ron's eyes grew wide expecting to see the acid-green of a QuickNotes Quill in her hands, but instead saw a tube of lipstick and a compact mirror. He let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding in.

"Yeah, I've been alright."

"Is your marriage doing alright?" She put the lipstick away and began powdering her nose.

Ron sat up, "What?"

"Is your marriage alright?" Rita carefully put her mirror and powder away.

Ron eyed her warily, "Are we having a casual conversation as chums? Or are you on the clock? Because, I'm not about to sit here and discuss my personal life with anyone, let alone, _you_."

"Oh, come now. Everyone who's anyone already knows dear, people maybe sheep, but they aren't blind. So why not just talk to me about it? Your wife left you and took the kids, didn't she?" Ron opened his mouth to tell her that that was really none of her business, but Rita cut him off. "Of course she did. Was it because another wizard opened her eyes for her, and showed her that you were a bloody wanker? Or maybe just opened her eyes, and turned her on? I don't mean to pry...it's just...it's so tragic. The magical world needs to know the truth, yeah?" She grinned, her gold teeth flashing from the light of the Knight Bus chandeliers.

Ron was fuming, but that did not deter the ever-so-sly Rita Skeeter. She always got her story. "Look, I wanted to do a story on you. You know, show the masses that you aren't some cold hearted, friend-killing, wife-beating, drunken sod who likes to play Quidditch on the side. So what do you say? I will write an article on you, and it can be on the Prophet presses this evening, ready to be read in the morning." She lazily extended her hand across the aisle. Ron thought for a moment and swiftly shook Rita Skeeter's hand, offering to tell her everything over a bottle or two of fire whiskey at the Leaky Cauldron

--

--

"Oh my...Draco. Look at this!" Hermione hit my arm, and made me look at the article that I had received a copy of late last evening.

"""CANNONS' KEEPER, RON WEASLEY, LEFT IN SHAME, WIFE HAS ENOUGH

by: Rita Skeeter"""

The attached photo nearly had me in hysterics. It was a cartoon of the Weasel getting hit in the head with Quaffles being thrown by cartoons of Hermione and the kids. This was priceless, I needed to start hiring Skeeter to write articles for me more often.

"Draco, all of this is true! That woman, wrote, probably for the second time in her life, a _truthful_ article! Merlin, how did she get him to tell her those things?"

"Skeeter will write what she thinks the people want to know, for the right price. It seems the more you pay the more truth there is. Isn't that interesting?" I leaned back in my chair, feeling quite pleased with myself. Hermione just smirked. I was beginning to wear off on her...again. Lovely.

I looked around noticing that the house was oddly quiet. "Hermione, where are your children?"

"Oh, I took them to Molly's this morning, before you got up." She said, looking up from the paper.

"They were just there yesterday. Honestly, how are they ever going to grow up if you keep taking them to their Gran's every two seconds?"

"Well, they only have the one set you know?!" She replied a bit more sharply than I expected her to. "And if I remember correctly, when we were together _you_ kept joking with Molly that you were going to leave our children there, so that she wouldn't have to keep on nagging us to visit with them! So how is this any different?" During her outburst she had stood up and walked towards me. She had walked so close that I could kiss her. And kiss her I did.

"It's not that. I just thought that all of us could spend some time together, that's all." I moved her so that she was sitting across my lap, with my arms around her waist. "But if you took them to the Burrow, because you had a different agenda, then by-all-means, let me in on it." I went to nuzzle her neck, but she had stood up, leaving me with an empty lap.

"Who said I had an agenda? And if I did, what exactly do you think it would include?" She grinned, but held her arms to herself. So…she wasn't ready to start _that_ up with me again…damn. I watched her as she walked upstairs to her room. Oh, how I missed those days where that meant that she wanted me to follow her, and make love to her till the next morning. I missed those days terribly, and wished they would return quite soon.

--

--

"No, no, no! Nate! It doesn't go there!"

"What are you on about? Of course it does, Nick!"

"You are both wrong! The instructions say it goes here! See?" Rose pointed out that on their Lego Hogwarts replica; the boys were trying to put Gryffindor Tower where the Astronomy tower and the Owlery were supposed to be. The boys looked at their sister, looked at Hogwarts, looked and the instructions, and sighed. "Rose, you are such a stick in the mud when it comes to being creative." Nick put down the tower.

"Yeah, you really are. Go read a book or something." Nate agreed.

"Well then fine! If you break something and want me to fix it, you both can forget it!" Rose stood up, and huffed out of the room. Once in the corridor, she came into contact with a scowling, grownup's leg. Looking up from where she landed on her backside, she saw that it was her father. "Daddy!!!"

Ron's face softened instantly, "Hey, baby. Where's you're Gran?" Scooping up his little girl, he turned around to head into the kitchen from the sitting room corridor.

His mother was in the doorway flipping through a packet of parchments in her hand. "I'm right here. I'm assuming that since you are back at home you can be civil towards all humanity no matter how great a wrong they have caused you?"

Ron put Rose down, "Not entirely, Mum. Have you seen the Prophet this morning?" He pulled out a folded copy from his back pocket, and showed it to her.

"Well, the artist certainly captured your image, didn't they?" Molly couldn't help but let a small giggle escape, at the sight of the cartoon attached to the article.

"_Mum_! It's not funny! I told Skeeter about all of this in the strictest of confidence that this was to be an article of redemption; my apology to the entire Wizarding community. But what has she done? She's put my life out in the public eye for all to see! Merlin! I'm going to be the laughing stock of the entire Quidditch League!"

"You managed to do that all by yourself dear." Muttered Molly. Anyway, Ronald…these are for you." She handed him the parchments.

"What are these?"

"Divorce papers. Draco dropped off last night."

--

--

Arthur ended his letter with this, "Ron isn't too pleased that you dropped them off. He seems to think that he is entitled to be your executioner, for your previous actions at school and during the War…of course he won't dare say them out loud around Molly." He did add the post-script, "Please remember that Ron quits listening to reason when he gets upset. Remain careful and safe."

Yes, I missed those 'Worry-About-Nothing-Fuck-Hermione' days more and more with every waking minute.

--

--

**End Ch. 5**

**A/N**—So…there's that edited chapter…I hope it has been improved for the better!

**Itou**

"_**Always remember: Have fun."**_


	6. The Minister's Cat is an Angry Cat

**A/N—** I hope the last chapter got a bit better….I can't quite figure how I want to fix it. This chapter was something I thought of while I read scores of other fics, it is a simple theory that I have. If you think you've "figured it out" please feel free to elaborate in a review!

As always, thank you to everyone who reads, and a special thank you to all my reviewers! I really really really feel inspired when I check my email and see the words "Review Alert" I feel warm and fuzzy…and loved.

Sorry for keeping you from this (what I think of as a) clever chapter. Word of warning, some very ominous things are about to happen.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

**P.S.—**Please enjoy.

**-----the story-----**

"Mr. Fluffles!! Dindin!"

I hate that name, but what can one do about it when one has no thumbs. Nothing, absolutely nothing. Besides, everyone still remembers my real name, though I haven't spoken it in quite some time.

"Mr. Fluffles? Where are you, you silly puss?" I watched from the top of the bookshelf as that ridiculous man, Dirk Sarisson wandered around the Minister's office looking for me. This has become one of my favorite ways to amuse myself: hiding from the hired help.

"Now, Mr. Fluffles, this really is no way for the Minister's cat to behave! You had better come out right now, or you will have to go to bed with out your supper!" Sarisson was standing below me with his hands on his hips looking quite poofish, I dare say I did have my suspicions, but all investigations I have embarked on have yielded no decisive information. Not that I really care, I just like to know all I can about who I deal with on a day to day basis. It's quite funny really, that I know so much about everyone, and yet no one as the slightest clue that I am indeed not a cat, but the most powerful wizard that ever lived…ever, who's attention is tugged at every time someone says his name. It's quite irritating, really.

--

--

"What a fucking prick!" Ron was cross to say the least, he had spent some time with his children, but even that had done little to lighten up his mood. He couldn't believe that his wife was going to divorce him and most likely go back to the man who drove her to him in the first place. "Honestly! He practically threw her away! She shouldn't want to go back to him! I actually loved her! Ooooh! And her! She's honestly going to go on and do this to _me_? Me! The father of her children."

Ron was literally angry with rage. He simply couldn't see how his wife would want to leave him. "I'll show them both. I won't let her do this!"

Making his mind up on what it was he was going to do, he apparated to the Ministry, laughing the entire time.

--

--

I knew he felt my eyes on him, because he looked up. Damn.

"Mr. Fluffles! You get down right this instant! You naughty little puss! Come on! Come down!" Sarisson looked at me with large hopeful eyes. I do so hate to disappoint, so I hopped down from the top of the bookshelf, to top of a filing cabinet. From there I made my way downwards to the Minister's chair and from the chair to the floor. I looked at the man and tried to say in my most serious voice, "I hate you." I'm sure all he heard was a pathetic little "Mrewl" because, he responded by picking me up and saying, "Yes, yes, yes. You are such a naughty cat."

As we made our way towards the Atrium, the man kept talking.

"I have half a mind to not feed you at all, but what would the Minister say!"

Don't you ever shut up?

"I dare say, Mr. Shacklebolt would be most displeased with me!"

Magic around us! I demand that you put me down this instant!

"Oh my! Mr. Fluffles, you really mustn't squirm so! What if I dropped you?"

Then I would be put out of the misery of having to listen to your prattling! How I hate this body! If I could only get my hands on my wand--! Gah! If I only had hands with which I could hold a wand! I hate you with more and more intensity every moment of my existence. But Sarisson disregarded all of my protesting thinking them as mere noises. He just plopped me down in front of a food bowl in the Atrium at the secretary's desk, as though I wasn't the most powerful living thing on the face of the world. This will become a grave mistake on his part, besides…I don't even like tuna.

--

--

_Thirty minuets later…._

"I want to countersue!"

"I'm sorry…what?"

"I want to divorce her. She can't divorce me! I'm in the public eye! I mean…look at me! I'm everyone's favorite! When everyone says Weasley is our King, nowadays they actually mean it! My career cannot afford to be divorced from, unless _I_ do the divorcing!"

The secretary, whose nameplate said Olivia Maxwell, tried desperately to get Ron to simply 'Shut up!,' but he just kept on blathering about how Hermione was being selfish, and that she can't take his kids away from him.

_Pick me up…._

He continued for a while until he noticed the cat sitting on the desk calmly, yet intently looking up at him.

_Pick me up….Pick me up…._

"When did the Ministry get a cat?"

"What?"

_Pick me up, I said…._

"That cat. How long has the Minister had one?"

The secretary's eyes grew wide. 'This man is crazy!' "Sir, there has always been a cat here, as far as I know."

"Dad never said anything about a cat. Figures. No one ever tells me anything of interest." He gingerly picked up the feline from the desk and began to stroke it from head to tail. 'Ah, yes. This will do quite nicely….Now get out of here'

"I'm sorry sir, but what is it that you came here for?" Had she been paying attention, Olivia would have noticed that the light in Ron's eyes had changed.

"You know what? It's not even that important anymore." Ron put the cat back down in front of its food bowl, and coolly sauntered out of the Ministry.

"Well, Mr. Fluffles! That was quite an adventure wasn't it? I dare say I might need to Floo my fiancé, and tell him about this immediately!" Olivia wrote out a quick note that read, "Gone to Floo…Be back in twenty mins." Mr. Fluffles looked up at her with wide scared eyes. "Oh don't worry, you silly puss! I'll put a charm on the phones to automatically take messages."

'…….'

"What? Don't you want me to tell my honey about my day?"

_Who the hell is Mr. Fluffles? And why did my body walk off without me?!_

--

--

End Ch. 6

-A/N- So yeah, here it is. The next chapter. Don't forget to tell your friends! RnR!!!


	7. Sigh, an ANote

_**Draco 7 (a/n)**_

Hey all I have edited chapter 6 to be longer….meaning, I wrote a super short chapter 7 and decided I could tag it on to chapter 6…so go read it!!!

Thanks,

K M Rose


	8. A beer? Why thank you!

**A/N—** I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I switched majors and so school was very hectic and I was swamped with homework!

However, just like every other time…**THANK YOU** for adding Suffer No More to your Favorites, and Alerts lists! I really do appreciate it! Like I say all time: when I check my email, and I see "Story favorites, Story alert, and Review alert" I feel awesome! (especially Review Alert)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, neither do I seek to reap financial benefits from this piece of fiction. I am merely a fan yearning to manipulate Rowling's characters in such a way as to entertain myself and others.

**P.S.—**Please enjoy.

**-----the story-----**

Ahhh, it is so nice to be able to walk on two legs again! And not being force fed tuna! Haha! No more entrapment! Oh how I will love this.

"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley! Are the rumors true? That your wife is planning on divorcing you?" Reporters from the Daily Prophet and other papers swarmed all around me.

I just smiled at them and kept walking. They are such petty people, making a profit off of death, destruction, and other people's failures. Report the news, my tail! Oh, wait. I don't have one of those anymore! Hahaha! I am in a human body.

Now, where to go? I'd like to get away from these annoying people with their wands in my face, trying to record my every word. 'Leaky Cauldron – If yer thirsty, and can see this sign, Come on in.' Don't mind if I do!

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Where the hell did my body go! Why am I in this cat! Oh nooooooooooo!_

"Wow, Mr. Fluffles! You certainly are talkative today! Did Mr. Weasley scare you too?"

I'm _Mr. Weasley! I'm Ron! WHO THE HELL IS MR. FLUFFLES?_

Olivia was back at her desk. "My fiancé told me that everything would be ok, and that if he comes back I should call St. Mungo's!" she giggled.

_She thinks I'm a complete loony! Bitch._

"Ow! Mr. Fluffles, that is not very nice of you! Now I have to find a muggle Band-Aid to put on this so it doesn't get infected!" Olivia rummaged through her purse to find a bandage to put on the scratch that the cat had just given her.

Ron hopped down out of her lap and across the atrium hoping that no one would stop him on his escape outside. Thankfully, no one did.

Hermione stood outside an unemployment agency (or witches and wizards of course.) She looked up at the hanging sign. "Down-N-Out On Your Luck. This is your lucky day!" 'What a terrible slogan,' she thought to herself, as she pushed open the door.

A bell rang somewhere in the back of the office, and a tiny little old man came out of a back room to the counter. The lenses in his glasses were at least two inches thick, 'One would think that in a world full of magic they could find a way to make people less blind, or at least let their lenses not be so thick!'

"How can I help you, madam?" He also had no teeth, so the words came out a bit slurred and muffled.

"Um, yes. I would like to take a Magical Aptitude Test, please. I graduated, but never got around to attending university, and I would like a job."

The old man shuffled some papers and boxes around on the counter to reveal what looked like a muggle computer. "What is your name, and what school did you graduate from?"

Hermione's eyes were wide, "Oh, uhm. My name is Hermione Weas-- um…Granger. Hermione Granger, and I graduated from Hogwarts."

The old man clicked a few keys on the keyboard, and made a few "Mmmhmm" noises. All at once papers started printing from the twenty different printers that Hermione hadn't even noticed were on shelves around the office. The man went around to each printer and collected all the printed sheets; he stapled them together and started at once checking things off with a red felt-tip pen.

"Hmm. Mmhmm. Yes. Uh-huh. Yes, well, it looks like you were top of your class there weren't you!"

Hermione blushed, "Well, yes, I suppose I was."

"And it says here that during your third year you took a mock aptitude test, where your results were: Auror, lawyer, nurse, doctor, law enforcement, judge, chemist, and the list goes on! Do any of these things still sound interesting to you? Hmm?"

Hermione thought for a moment. She wanted nothing to do with law now that she was having to go through this divorce with Ron. And the idea of having to take care of sick people kind of made her sick herself. "Is there anything there about advertising or anything?" She remembered the sign outside. She could probably come up with a better slogan, and she was fond of photography and such.

"Not that I can see, is that what you want to do?" the old man peered at her through his glasses. He put the papers down along with the red pen, and picked up a set of forms and a quill.

Hermione nodded her head, "Yes, I think that is what I want to do."

"Well, sign these forms and we'll get some interviews set up for you, Ms. Granger!"

"Thank you!" She filled out the forms, returned them and the quill to the old man. He told her that she will be notified by owl when an interview has been set up. She left with a last 'Thank you' to the man and went out into the street.

Walking for a bit she spotted the store she wanted and went in, made a few purchases and then left for home. It was a good day.

A/N – There we are! The next chapter! Please let me know what you think!


End file.
